


Rogues-Of-A-Kind

by CueSue



Category: Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-13 03:58:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9105712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CueSue/pseuds/CueSue
Summary: Missing scene for 'A New Hope.' This takes place before the celebratory ceremony.





	

Han stood up, stretched, then looked around. All was quiet in the forest, save for the chirping and snuffling of unseen creatures he knew nothing about. He'd never been here before, had never had any intention of visiting Yavin IV unless, of course, smuggling opportunities had presented themselves. When was this big deal going to get underway? What was holding up the proceedings?

"Hey, Chewie," he said, "I'm going for a walk."

The feisty Wookiee shot back a whiny growl, drawled a, "Eeeymp." And then a spate of rapidly-spoken Wookieese poured from him.

Han, glaring, retorted, "Like I don't know the ceremony's gonna start soon? I'm bored, waiting around for Luke all this time. I'm off to see if I can find him. Or somebody who can tell me what's taking so long." When Han grumbled, he never held back. He brushed his long hair away from his eyes and made good on his intention. "Yeah, I'll be back before it gets underway."

Chewbacca settled back in the lush patch of green he lounged in. The Wookiee was a creature who loved being comfortable although that might be hard to imagine, judging by his looks.

The headquarters the Rebels had established here in this immense ancient temple of stone, long abandoned by some religious culture, was abuzz with activity. Han moseyed along, taking it all in, wondering what chance these people really had against such staggering odds. The Empire was no joke; those grasping maniacs bent on devouring this galaxy would allow nothing to stand in their way. He doubted this little band of sorely out-numbered and outgunned do-gooders really knew what they were up against. He was having disquieting moments of feeling lost in a sea of misguided souls.

He recalled the old man, the one who'd called himself Obi-Wan. Who was more the fool? The fool, or the one who followed?

"Nice," Han said, as he'd said before, to himself this time.

He ambled on as a punchy observer. The more he roamed freely, the more the idea of cutting out before the ceremony got underway grew on him. He didn't care if he'd cleaned up nicely for the occasion. What of it? He'd had an excuse to freshen up in an actual fresher. As soon as this thing was done, he was gone. He felt like an Ewefish out of water, and that wasn't good. This big, noisy place, with all the echoing, wasn't to his liking. If he didn't find Luke soon, that would be that. Ceremony, or no ceremony, he was good to go, return to smuggling and forget all this defeating the Empire nonsense. Trying to pull that off on a daily basis was a sure way to get killed. He was still a young man, eager to earn his fortune, with lots of high-flying living to do. He owed it to himself to look out for number one; that's just what he'd always done, up till now.

Walking by a tight, bordering on narrow corridor, he heard voices. They were faint, barely audible, but he tuned in. A man in utility clothes didn't exactly sneak up on him. "Sir, are you lost?"

Han swung around, giving him a pointed look. "Do I look lost?"

Yeah, he did, but the barrel-chested man deferred, "No, no. Not at all, sir." He recognized who this was then, and solicitously asked, "Are you looking for the Princess?"

Han chuckled deep in his throat, thinking just about every guy he knew was looking for one.

"Have you seen her?" he asked, sounding cavalier.

The salt-and-pepper-haired worker smiled and said, "You're quite warm, very near." He flicked a hand in the general direction. "Hers is the third chamber to the right, just up that way."

Han shot the smile right back at the accommodating fellow. "Uh, huh, sure. I was on my way to see her. Thanks, buddy, thanks a lot."

"Don't mention it, sir. I'm sure she'd like to thank you again personally for all you've done. So do I." The man seized Han's hand, began pumping his arm like Han was the discoverer of a more dependable way of jumping into hyperspace. The congratulations through, the worker went on his way, leaving a grinning Han Solo in his wake.

LH LH LH LH LH LH LH LH LH LH LH LH LH LH LH

Leia looked up, having heard the sound of knocking at the door. Was the buzzer malfunctioning? Wondering if it could be Luke, she said to her assistant that she'd answer it. The assistant left her, and headed deeper into the chamber's dim interior.

"Yes, come in," Leia invited, looking at herself in a handheld mirror. Her up-swept hairdo was perfect, the hair tight and glistening. She viewed herself from several different angles, satisfied with her polished coiffure. A few moments went by, and her unseen guest still hadn't appeared. Stamping her foot a little, Leia gruffly called, "Come in, I said."

Princess sassy's got a real good bite to her voice, Han thought, amused. Well, here goes nothin'.

While the door continued pulling back, he stuck his head in with a big, sloppy grin on his smirking face. "Hey, Princess." He looked like he'd forgotten something, then he quickly added, "Your Highness-ness." Force, did she look spiffy, he didn't hesitate to think, unable to stop himself. Why should he stop himself? She was a vision for his hungry eyes. His crooked smile broadened. "You're a real head-turner for whoever your special someone is." Did he wish he were it?

Her mouth had dropped open, just hanging. She immediately snapped it shut. The absolute gall of this man, this nerf-herding scoundrel, despite how handsome he was. Leia hastened to set him straight with bright gleams in her soulful, dark eyes that made Han go more than a little weak in the knees. "There is no special whatever you said about someone I'm supposed to impress. That is what you're getting at right?"

She smoothed the bodice of her elegant, snow white dress purposely, looking for an excuse to appear unflappable. She hoped to kid him, because, truth be told, this man did unsettling things to her peace of mind.

"Now that's interesting..." he dangled, looking as sly as could be.

"What's interesting?" Leia hotly retorted, upset with herself. Her cheeks burned, and she hoped he couldn't tell because she was wearing much rouge.

"A lovely, lively little princess like you, minus a prince."

Leia's poor heart skipped too many beats. Her hand went to her chest as if its touch might calm it.

If he keeps waggling his eyebrows like that, I'm going to smack them off, Leia thought, frowning, turning sharply away from him, unsettled. She really had to stop having him do that to her. "What brings you here?" she barked, all keyed-up. Rapidly, she took several breaths to slow her heart down. "You're supposed to be-"

"I know where I'm supposed to be...I chose to be here."

There went her overactive heart again, beating out-of-control. She needed more air. "Really..."

"Yeah." He spread his arms out to give her the full view. "So..." Instead of mocking her, he said, "Leia." Her name lingered on his tongue, and he winked saucily at her. "How d'I look? Give it to me straight, now."

She fought not to smile too much, telling herself to play it cool. "Presentable." The regal mask, tried and true, dropped back into place. "Now, you'll have to excuse me...I haven't quite finished getting read-"

"Oh, well...maybe I don't want to excuse myself. Not just yet."

You, bold, unbelievably impudent scoundrel, flashed up into Leia's mind. Sweat had already formed on her soft, unblemished forehead. You must join us. We need you...I need you. She more than trembled over what she thought next. You really look as though you want to kiss me...do you? If you did, I wouldn't slap your face for it...even though I certainly should...

Han stepped in closer to her, full of himself, and wanting to be as close as he could get to her. Crossing his arms across his chest, he sighed, reveling in her delicious bouquet. Leia was a looker and Force did she smell like every expensive perfume he'd ever smuggled. Leia Organa...just thinking her name was a turn-on.

Han sighed, his avid approval written all over his rugged, scarred in some places, face. Leia looked at him directly now, and her own knees gave her trouble. He was cocky, probably had loved and had left many, willing women behind. Did she want 'on' that long list? She was thee Princess; he was a pauper, a randy rogue, but, oh, he was quite the man too. He was intelligence, wit, fervor and daring. Charm and grace were bound up in him as well. She stared into his deep, dark eyes, falling into them, and falling for him.

As he regarded her tenderly, she cleared her throat that had suddenly gone bone dry. Her blush had overpowered her rouge, she knew, through no fault of Han's. Her own mind betrayed what she would've liked him to do with her.

"What is it you want?" squeaked from Leia.

Han cocked an eyebrow. "What're you offering?"

Impatiently, she said, "You'll see. Now, I have to finish getting ready."

"You look good and ready to me," Han teased, with a brashness never easily contained. His vision slid across her cleavage and tunneled.

Snidely, she said, "Ready for what?"

Sounding just as hard-nosed, Han spat, "You tell me. You're the one calling the shots around here, Sweetheart."

Calling her that had a mellowing effect on her. He really believed she was solely the person in charge. Wherever had he gotten that idea from? She certainly hadn't given it to him. "Han...would you just allow me to finish getting ready?"

"That's your way of telling me to get lost, eh." Instead of taking that hint and going with it, Han slid up behind her and brazenly glided his hands up along her firm arms that pleased his touch. His hands settled on her lovely shoulders. "What if I don't want to...get lost? What if I want to stick around to watch you get even more...beautiful?"

Dumbfounded, she stumbled, "H-Han..." So, it was true; being this close to someone you were developing feelings for did make you swoon.

He raised a hand to her neck and caressed the warm, white, skin of her nape. His lips didn't trail far behind. She became like proverbial putty in his hands; she tingled and tarried, longer than she knew she should.

"Han...don't. Please."

"Leia..." He was truly enjoying this unexpected pleasure that came with Rebellion.

She weakly protested as heat suffused her body beneath the finery. "The ceremony's about to begin. We can't...not now. I don't think this is a good-"

"Yeah, you're right. Don't think," he seduced. His lips had found their way to the shell of her left ear. "Just enjoy."

Having closed her eyes, Leia whispered, "This isn't the time, nor place."

Han gently wound her long, lustrous braid hanging down her back around his hand. "This could be goodbye."

His admission took her by complete surprise. Startled, Leia gasped and her eyes popped wide open. Anxiously, she croaked, "But why? I thought you'd decided to stay with us. You're an inspiring pilot. You're a natural leader. We really need your help."

"And what about what you need?" Han murmured, easing her flush against him. He'd never had a woman of quality like Leia in his arms before.

She made no move to untangle herself from his commanding arms. Although she felt exposed and vulnerable, it was beginning to feel right, somehow, letting him sway her like this. She felt safe in his strong arms. She too was strong, when she had to be, but it felt nice letting another be that way. Han wasn't domineering; he was gentle, instinctively knowing his advances weren't unwelcome. She should really send him away before an official came looking for her and find her in this compromising situation. If word spread, how would that look in the eyes of visiting dignitaries and distinguished leaders, who were here lending unconditional support to the Rebel Alliance?

She wouldn't have anyone see her as some shapely floozy with a face that could make men fall at her feet. Her face took on a determined expression and she hardened her tone a bit when she said, "Han, this isn't happening now. It can't."

His rakish demeanor, which appealed to her, confused her as well. Han smiled with longing in his playful eyes. "I just thought...before I go, you and me could...sort of get to know each other better."

Even though his predatory bearing was disturbing, Leia felt she had to convince him not to throw away the allegiance he'd demonstrated. If it hadn't been for him, there wouldn't be a Yavin, let alone a ceremony. "Han," she said insistently, "what would make you change your mind about leaving?"

She sounded so sincere, so touching, it floored Han, and that wasn't something that happened often. "What've you got?"

She went at him full-frontal, amazingly, holding nothing back. She wasn't losing him so easily, and went for his head with both hands. She pulled his face down, unafraid, resolute. When her lips were even with his, she pressed hers aggressively into his and held on tight. His slight whimper encouraged her to kiss him more severely. When coming up for air became urgently necessary, Leia backed off a bit from his mouth she'd made a tad swollen.

Their lips were less than an inch apart as they shared a smile.

"That'll do it," Han said, reeling like he'd had one drink too many at some seedy Cantina. "Princess, you've got me after one like that on the kisser. You've got me good."

Smiling wider, Leia replied, "I know." She pushed him away in jest, and quipped, "Now, get out of here so I can hang that medal around your neck and Luke's."

"I'm looking forward to that."

Nodding, Leia rejoined, "I bet you are."

Standing in the open doorway, he turned around a last time, tossed her a wink. Before he strode away, he stared at her, looking as if he was trying to memorize every detail of her face. With his head in the clouds, he took his time about moving off.

Leia, with pursed lips, hurried to her handheld mirror to confirm what she suspected. Her hand flew up to her not so perfect 'do. The portion that had been delicately piled atop her head, now listed to one side.

Rolling her eyes, she said, "Look what that man did to my hair..."


End file.
